


The sound of when our hearts beat as one

by shamelessllamapeanutthing



Series: Victuuri SongFics [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Drabbles, Grand Prix Final Banquet, I hear Victuuri everywhere okay?, Inspired by Music, M/M, Nothing fancy here, Sochi banquet, Song: Weak (AJR), Songfic, Stand-alone chapters, VictUuri, Victuri, Vikturi, drabbles inspired by songs, more to come - Freeform, preposterous title, stick to a spelling already, they're precious, viktuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-22 11:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22881952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shamelessllamapeanutthing/pseuds/shamelessllamapeanutthing
Summary: I love music.And I love Victuuri.So obviously, the only logical thing to do when I hear a song I relate to them is to write a drabble about it.I recommend listening to the song before or while reading the piece that goes along with it.This one is summarised as:>> What Victor might have been thinking the night of the Sochi Banquet.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Series: Victuuri SongFics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1991656
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15





	The sound of when our hearts beat as one

**Author's Note:**

> The song that inspired this is Weak by AJR.  
> Victor's POV

A nervous smile spread across Victor’s lips. His fingertips tingled.

For the first time in however many years, the labels were blurring and falling apart. Immortal, he wasn’t. God, he never had been. Legendary? Only because he knew no other way of life. The eyes he was constantly pinned under, scrutinized by, and evaluated with, were now riveted on somebody else and breathing was all of a sudden easier.

Well, when it came to the masses, scandals had forever been more important than Gods and the sway of Yuuri Katsuki’s hips was nothing if not purely scandalous.

The Japanese skater didn’t seem to care about the God of figure skating. He had turned his back on him right after the finale and now that he was drunk out of his mind, unbothered by any previous inhibitions, his meltingly warm eyes were shamelessly trailing Victor’s body. Yuuri was watching Victor, like hundreds before him, but there was no trace of awe or expectation in his lopsided smile and beguiling eyes. Only an invitation, unabashed, naked, and rapidly making every inch of Victor’s skin catch on fire.

_No, thank you._ His brain defaulted, except the screaming voices inside his head seemed to fade into a transfixed silence when Yuuri was concerned. The Japanese man didn’t once say a word to Victor, but he was feeling drawn to him in a way nothing else attracted him anymore.

There would definitely be a lot to say for the tabloids if Victor engaged in these drunken shenanigans because apparently, you had to exchange your human fallibility for a place at the top. The rest of the skaters could get away with this, Chris could, Yuri could but he won’t. He was _the_ Victor Nikiforov and that was what the world wanted to see, a cool, composed, courteous and gorgeous looking figure skater who was unbeatable on the ice, not Victor. Never Victor.

Except for Yuuri. He didn’t care so long as he could have a dance, it seemed.

Victor shouldn’t, but oh how he wanted to.

… and it was becoming obvious to everyone who actually knew him. Yakov gave him a warning glare, Chris raised his eyebrows suggestively, Yuri seemed resigned to destiny and the star of the night… well, he had just given Victor another loaded look and casually turned around almost as if he was sure Victor was going to follow his lead.

This man was so very beautiful and incredibly dangerous. It was dangerous to catch his eye, it was dangerous to watch him dance, it was dangerous to walk any closer, it was dangerous to give himself away, not to the public but to Yuuri Katsuki. He stood on a precipice, and the smallest things seemed to hold the power to tip him over. Another sip of this expensive champagne, another whistle rising from the crowd, another knowing glance from Chris, another sight of Yuuri’s intoxicated, _intoxicating_ smile, absolutely anything could make him keel just then. He didn't know what the stakes were. He didn't know what Yuuri had in mind everytime he turned around to give Victor that specific 'come-hither' look. He didn't know if laying himself open at the feet of this man would even lead to anything (but he knew it'd break him if it didn't) Yes, this was a dangerous game, and Victor was giving in incredibly easily.

He took a couple of steps forward. Chris whistled. Yuuri never noticed. (He would learn later, that to get him to pay attention, you had to walk right up into his space and single-handedly tear down every wall in-between till you were both naked and staring into each other’s eyes) Victor's body moved in time with the music, and he came alive. Yet without those incredibly soft brown eyes embracing him, he couldn’t truly _feel_ any joy in it. 

Heart thundering in his chest, he took a few more steps closer.

What was wrong with him wanting to have fun, really? Why were people whispering and staring? Why was Yuuri not looking?

Why was he putty in his hands without him having to say one _word_ to Victor?

He didn’t know, and not having the answer to something, _for once in his life,_ was incredibly fun.

He danced closer, feeling uncharacteristically shy, unsure, wrong-footed. He was getting high on the feeling, on the chase, on the prize, the idea of getting to share one dance with this sinfully alluring angel.

It was thrilling. He loved it.

Close enough now, Yuuri sensed someone joining his solo performance. His head cocked and he gave Victor a quick glance from the corner of his eyes. For one staggering moment, all traces of intoxication fled his features, his mouth dropped open in disbelief. Victor’s heartbeat quickened. That expression had no place on this man’s face. Did he really not understand what the entire room had come to witness? Victor Nikiforov seemed hardwired to match Yuuri Katsuki step-for-step. He couldn’t ignore this man, he couldn’t remain unaffected by him.

Then the disbelief was washed away by a cocky twitch of his brows and Victor found their hands entwining as they drew closer.

If he thought it was difficult not coming undone with Yuuri staring at him from however many feet away, it was near impossible holding himself together so close to the flame he had been drawn to like a hapless moth. Yuuri had given himself to the music, Victor had given himself to Yuuri. He fully believed if the Japanese man asked him to slap Chris across the face just then, he would.

They danced, and he wondered if the people around them could see how much more this was to him. Could they see his fingers shaking, his lips trembling, his eyes unable to look away from this pair of comforting brown ones? Could they see?

A part of him wished they would.

Limbs slid together and they were both out of breath, now. Victor’s entire body tingled and his face threatened to crack as his smile refused to wane. Every time Yuuri’s breath ghosted across the nape of his neck, he was helpless to let his head lean back against the younger man’s shoulder. Yuuri would chuckle, and hold Victor tighter and the various dangers he had listed in his mind bled away into an illogical sense of rightness, familiarity. As if here in Yuuri’s arms was where he had been crafted to be. He was no one, but Yuuri’s, and that felt nice. Even if the sense of belonging was fleeting, bound to be chased away with the lull of sobriety, it felt incredibly nice.

Yuuri wasn’t dangerous. Victor was simply thrilled. He wasn’t giving in to temptation. He was surrendering to destiny. If the powers above had decided Victor would be allowed to be exactly who he was for one and only one night, following in the drunken haze of a stranger's footsteps, who was he to fight?

For the first time in three years, his victory, his gold-medal, they seemed to have a point. It was like everything in life had happened to lead to this, every action had found a purpose, every story a conclusion. Insignificant as this encounter would seem to so many, it was ground-breaking for him. Something seemed to have slotted in to place. He never realized what he had been missing out on before this moment.

Brown eyes gazed into his. Drunken, lopsided and drooly smile of Yuuri’s felt like a secret beginning nobody else had the sight to see.

Victor chuckled, hiding his face in Yuuri’s neck at one point. He had caved so easily, and he could already see, he would always be weak in the face of those dark and beautiful eyes. His laughter grew louder, breathless, punctuated by Yuuri’s own chortles. He hadn’t said a word, Victor marveled, _a single word_ and yet, the moment Victor had caught sight of that fresh, beautiful, carefree smile, Victor knew that he would never find it in him to resist the Ace of Japan.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment and tell me what you guys thought!
> 
> Come scream at me about YOI on [my YOI side blog](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ice-malice) or [my main](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/shamelessllamapeanutthing)


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